


Watson & Holmes - a complicated play

by Raven_Tio



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breaking Up & Making Up, Cheating, Conspiracy, Criminal Masterminds, First Kiss, First Time, His Last Vow Spoilers, Love/Hate, M/M, Murder, Reichenbach Feels, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-16 06:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1335313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Tio/pseuds/Raven_Tio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The case of the frozen chef.<br/>One case wrapping itself around a bunch of feelings and drama.</p><p>Oh… and Johncroft NEEEDS more attention! =)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ~ I ~

**Author's Note:**

> The case of the frozen chef is my own invention. I had some other criminal series as inspiration, but the case as described here, developed in my mind. Still it is the first time I create a possible crime scene so if there are some mistakes or impossible things, be gentle with me.
> 
> Also, english is not my native language. So feel free to leave some feedback to me on how to improve my english skills. =)
> 
> Oh, and of course. Enjoy reading!

There is a reason behind him being always so angry when someone calls him gay. Not because he isn't. But because he already has a partner. A man. He doesn't like to call him boyfriend since they are both grown up man and not boys anymore. It's not an easy relationship with somebody like him, but it's worth it. And to be honest. There are no easy relationships at all.  
It was love on the first sight, if you believe in that. They did not see each other for the first time at the same moment, but still. Opposite to everyones expectations, they did not need month to figure out, that they like each other in a very deep way. What made it so special was the fact, that they had to keep it a secret. For John that was the hardest part. He was happy after all and wanted to shout it out loud. He wanted to let the whole world know that, what ever sexual orientation he had, the person of his heart was already by his side.  
Instead he had to hide. Act in a play that had become very complicated lately. Only a few people knew.  
The both men of course.  
Molly Hooper does. For some reason.  
And one actor.  
Involving him was the point where things got very confusing for John. His partner however had a plan. He wrote the game plan, the whole play, if you like to call it like that. Only a Holmes could be that clever indeed.  
It takes a Holmes to fool a Holmes.  
A very strange statement, but in the end it turned out to be true. 

~

"Oh, don't look at me like that, John.", his soft voice hardly managed to fill the whole room, but it didn't need to to make its way to Dr. John Watson. The short man was shifting from one leg to the other looking at his partner impatiently.  
"How not?" He was catching his breath.  
"How can I possibly not look at you like that? I mean. There is a mirror... You know exactly how hard it is for me to keep focused, when you are dressed like that."  
He earned a soft laughter while the other man was approaching him.  
"My dear John…", he said softly.  
Their relationship lasted for almost five years now. They had their ups and downs, some time while they had hardly seen each other but there was never a point where one of them thought about ending their adventure. John preferred to call it like that. An adventure. His live had changed a lot since they ended up as a couple. And it did not look like it was going to calm down a bit. So relationship was a word way to weak for what it was really like.  
A shiver was crawling down Johns spine, when he leaned forward to kiss the soft lips before him. Yet he did not dare to put his hands on the other mans hip, as he usually liked to do.  
"I know. It's for my… our protection but still. He is my friend. And I get tired of acting in front of him." Johns voice was only a whisper. It was not a request and he was not begging. It was just very important to him, that his partner understood.  
"I am sorry." He did. "The acting will end eventually. But there is a time for everything."  
The doctor smiled a little sad when he nodded. They had this conversation a couple of times already. But its end did not change so far. No matter how much John was hoping for it.  
"I love you.", he whispered voiceless and leaned into another kiss.  
"I know.", was all he earned in reply before two arms wrapped themselves around him. The soft voice, the decent smell, those deep blue eyes. Everything about this man was so comforting, so calm. Even though John knew how fast his partners brain was working, he was glad about the center of tranquility he had found with him.  
When he put his hands on the tall mans hipbones, John did not hesitate any longer. His fingers slipped right away under the almost too short shirt. The warm skin felt so familiar and yet it hit him with fresh excitement every time. The kiss was slowly filling with desire as John pushed his partner to the small sofa in the back of the room.  
"I'd really love to go further with you right now, but I am afraid we don't have time for that.", he whispered onto Johns lips and got not only a disappointed look as a reply.  
"Your brother?"  
He nodded and lifted his mobile phone as a proof. Seven unread messages. All from one person.  
"He is your friend.", the tall man said with a soft smile.  
"Sometimes I hate you for this…"  
"No, you don't." He let his hand stroke through Johns hair and over his cheeks while speaking and enjoyed the reaction. The smile and the change in his eyes that said more than every word, about how deep and real his feelings were.  
"Take care, my dear John.", he said and kissed him once more. No further word needed to be spoken and both men left the room in different directions.


	2. ~ II ~

_Their first meeting._  
 _John always smiled softly while remembering. It felt very strange. To be brought outside of the town. Somewhere in an empty hall. There was a sense of danger in the air. But just for a few seconds. When his eyes spotted him. The tall man with the umbrella. It was almost a lovely picture. Except for the unpleasant background of course. His voice sounded so soft and charming when he offered John the seat. He knew at an instant why the doctor was limping. Sometimes, looking back, knowing this man, the scene appeared very bizarre to John Watson. Him knowing so much about the doctor by first sight. But then again it was their first meeting and he couldn't get Mycroft Holmes out of his head ever since. A couple of meetings had followed. All on behalf of business of course, but the looks on their faces changed every time they met. It was only one month after this very first meeting, when they first kissed._  
 _Mycroft had summoned the short man again in the case of his brother. That was what he told John, when he texted him. But when he finally arrived at the agreed meeting point, something very different awaited him._  
 _"Ah, hello John. Come in. Lets have some Dinner, before we talk about my dear brother.", Mycroft greeted him in is ever-soft voice. The smile was strangely mischievous and very unlikely for this man. At least that was what John thought until this point. He nodded and followed the older Holmes. John does hardly remember the details of the room. He just knew that it was warm and friendly. The meal was excellent and the two men lost themselves in smalltalk. Without really recognizing John was opening up to his host. When they moved from the table onto the small sofa, both men had had not just one glass of wine. None of them hesitated a moment when they sat down next to each other. The eyes fixed on the other man they smiled as if they knew for ages._  
 _Nevertheless the first kiss was very shy. Dry lips leaning against each other. Both of them hesitating a second. Waiting for the other man to back off. But non of them did. And so the courage grew fast, as did the desire. On this evening they did not get very far though. Urgent maters interrupted them and after saying goodbye the both of them left with a sweet smile._  
 _It was a very nice memory. Yet time would change it to become very bitter for John._

~

It was in the taxi when John switched on his phone again. Without being surprised he waited for the messages to arrive. Three.  
"That's not to bad.", he said to himself grinning.  
He choose not to reply. Not via phone. It would take him only half an hour to arrive at his new destination. And he preferred to lean back and relax a bit instead of getting involved in another case already. His friend would bring the news to him soon enough. Another two messages arrived on his phone before he finally entered one of the noblest restaurants of town.  
"There you are, finally. What took you so long?"  
Sherlock seemed to be very excited. He was circling the shorter man with a few steps hardly looking at him.  
"Oh, you will love this one. It's truly delicate." He chuckled. "Almost literally delicate."  
"So what is going on?"  
"A murder John. A very nice one."  
"Nice?"  
It almost surprised him, that he was still surprised by Sherlocks excitement about something as horrible as a murder. But some things you just don't get used to. Some things and Sherlock Holmes. So he just swallowed the unpleasant feeling of doing something wrong and looked at the consulting detective. They had a couple of observers already. Guests, sitting on tables which cloths looked almost more expensive than the few things John wear. Not to mention the silverware.  
"Why are there still guests sitting?", he asked in a low voice.  
"Oh, ignore them. The owner refuses to close the restaurant. He is currently discussing with Lestrade." Sherlock was pointing into one corner of the room where a couple of waiter were preparing bread and other things you need for a good service. Among them John could spot the DI who was looking rather puzzled while a tall thin man was gesticulating excitedly. There was no sight of the other members of Lestrades Team so far, but since there was no dead body in the guest room the murder must have taken place somewhere behind the doors of the kitchen.  
"Short summary until they let us enter.", Sherlock began in a low but excited voice.  
"Dead man. No weapon so far. Body found in the walk-in-freezer. That is also the room where the murder took place. Wasn't found until half an hour before dinner business. No sings of a fight, as far as the police thinks. No sings of a attempted break-in as well. The kitchen looked just fine when the first chefs entered for their shifts."  
"Who is the dead man?", John interrupted the fast talking of his friend.  
"The Sous Chef, they said."  
"Have you seen the body already?"  
"No not yet. They only let in three people at a time since there is not that much space in the kitchen."  
"So there are currently people working? …cooking?" John felt his stomach knotting and thought about throwing up right in the middle of the room. This was something way beyond his understanding.  
"Are you telling me, that there are people cooking meals next to a dead body?"  
"Well, yes… why?"  
John shook his head and looked over to the kitchen door. A waiter was just entering the room carrying three plates with fancy looking things on them. The doctor wasn't sure if it was really food there on the plates since some of the items looked way too extraordinary.


	3. ~ III ~

_When he entered 221b Bakerstreet in full excitement, a wide grin on his face he was looking for the right words to tell Sherlock. Three steps of the stairs he had ascended so far when he received the text message._  
 _'Don't tell my brother. Don't tell anybody. MH'_  
 _John stopped right on the staircase. His heart felt so heavy in that moment. Not broken. But the beats seamed slow and all the excitement was gone._  
 _The play had just begun._  
 _"Are you alright, dear?"_  
 _The voice of Mrs. Hudson brought him back to reality._  
 _"Yes… yes Mrs. Hudson. It was just… I thought my leg was hurting for a moment. Must have stretched it a little to far somehow.", he mumbled quickly without thinking about his own words._  
 _"Oh. Do you need something. I have those patches for my back pain. You want one?"_  
 _"No thanks Mrs. Hudson. A shower will do."_  
He left the landlady behind with these words and made his way into the bedroom. When he threw himself onto the bed, his thoughts were chasing each other. A soft knock _on the door cut of his thoughts._  
 _"John? Are you still awake?", it was Sherlocks voice._  
 _"Yes of course, I just got home."_  
 _"Good, get dressed again and come!"_  
 _"What?"_  
 _John was really not in the mood to go outside again. Still he found himself slipping his feet out of bed and rising._  
 _"Hurry, I need your help."_  
 _Before Sherlock had even finished the sentence the doctor already opened the door. He was still fully dressed and earned himself a surprised Sherlock._  
 _"That was quick."_  
 _"So, whats the matter?"_  
 _It was not really a fascinating matter that was brought up by Sherlock. Not even a one-patch-problem if you look back. But it kept John from thinking and raised his mood. There was no real reason to be sad anyway. They were just kissing. No need to tell anyone yet, since he could not possible think of how far this would get. His hopes weren't so strong though. He even kept on meeting women. But there was always something in his head that stopped him from getting to close to them._  
 _He and Mycroft did not meet again for a couple of weeks. Just shortly after John and Sherlock solved the mystery about the smuggling from China the opportunity came back. And not just one. A couple of meetings all wrapped around a stolen usb-port._

~

Shortly after the waiter left the kitchen Anderson and two other police officer followed. They headed directly towards Lestrade, just nodding into the direction of the amateurs.  
"Well, thats the sign, then.", Sherlock said and rushed towards the door immediately. Jon following in silence. The scene behind the door was breathtaking. At least for the doctor who had no idea of a professional kitchen. At least not one with such a high standard. It was nothing he thought about so far. So of course there were way too many details for him to see. And still he couldn't get over the fact that there was food looking so fancy he could't tell its origins.  
"You could have waited just a second!" The voice of the DI sounded exhausted and when John looked at him he could see the same exhaustion in his eyes.  
"It's this way."  
He took the lead and finally opened a door that lead into a big cooler. Inside of it there was a second similar door. Watson and Lestrade were the first to arrive at the corpse. Sherlock took his time as usual. He stopped here and there. Sniffed around and looked closely at random spots with his magnifier. When he arrived in front of the freezer John had already examined the body.  
"What do you see, Doctor?", Sherlock asked while going on his knees and looking at the rather short dead man.  
"Hard to say how long he is dead, since he was freezing from the beginning. Might say the murder happened between 11pm and 3am this night. Could possibly have been earlier. Killed by a blow on the back head. Maybe a big knife… at least an object with a sharp edge. No signs of a fight, so he was either surprised, or knew the murder."  
John looked up for a second. Sherlock was nodding at him. So far he was right and somehow that made John relax a bit.  
"We found no weapon so far.", Lestrade began sounding almost desperate.  
"None in this size. We tried to trace the blood with black light but this kitchen might be a damn slaughterhouse, there would hardly be a different picture."  
Sherlock chuckled again. After John stepped out of the freezer rubbing his cold fingers against each other, his friend circled the body with this very particular look on his face. Then he rushed out again and back into the kitchen. He spinned around and entered the cooler again. This he repeated a couple of times. John and Greg just watching speechlessly as ever. And of course tensed and curious about what Sherlock might find.  
What was very disturbing for John was, that while Sherlock took his time, there were chefs entering the cooler leaving food or tailing some with them. The asked the men to not leave the door open too long, since they don;t want the food to spoil. Non of the chefs seemed sad or uneasy about their dead colleague.


	4. ~ IV ~

_"So… Sarah?"  
"It was nothing. Really!"  
John wanted to start and explain, but when he looked at Mycrofts face he knew there was no need to do so. The tall man was gently smiling. Sitting in his chair, his hands folded over his lap. John looked at him closely while he rose out of his chair. He could not read a thing in the soft features of the older Holmes and still John knew. He knew it already, when two soft hands found their way onto his cheeks pulling him softly into a gentle kiss.   
The taste was so strange yet so sweet that the doctor let himself drown in it immediately.   
"Keep up meeting women.", Mycroft said as soon as his lips parted from Johns.  
"What?"  
"It is dangerous to be on my side. If anybody knows, that we are close… your life will be in danger. And I don't want to risk that."  
"Ok, you want me to date women as a-…", John stopped in mid-sentence and looked at his opponent.  
"So… we are… close?" Even though he hardly dared to ask, a grin appeared on his face in an instant.   
"I thought that was pretty obvious."  
Mycroft seemed a little confused. Clearly he was not used to getting close to someone. John knew that by the time their lips met for the first time. The all so superior Holmes appeared almost insecure in his movements. His lips almost shaking until John took the lead and guided him.  
"Why are you smiling like that, John?"  
"Can't you tell, clever Holmes?"  
He was mocking him. But just a little bit. He earned an amused smile in return and was soon pulled into a possessive hug. The world seemed just perfect in that moment. As if nothing could get between those two.   
Yet it was clear that dating other women would not be enough to fool the whole world. A big part maybe. But there were others outside, that needed to be mislead in a different way. On this evening Mycroft promised he would take care of that. He did not tell John that he had already started.  
At this very moment it just didn't matter. The arms closed around each other, falling into a long kiss and onto the soft pillows on the couch. They let everything behind them. It took John only a couple of minutes to get Mycroft out of his shirt and for a second he looked more than just surprised at the trained body. His fingertips were sliding slowly over the collarbone and to the firm muscles underneath. The doctor had a very dry mouth at this point since he did not expect such a marvelous body underneath the clothes of the british empire. Mycroft took absolute advantage of the puzzled man and helped him not just out of his jumper and shirt but out of his trousers as well.   
Johns fingers had crossed the belly now and were stoping before they reached the belt. With big questioning eyes he looked into Mycrofts face.   
And he was surprised again.  
John did not expect to find answers there. He did not dare to think that the older Holmes had any experience with something like this. Yet the look in his eyes told him a different story. So did the slim hand that slipped into his pants at this very moment and caused him to moan heavily with pleasure._

~

"Who is the head of the kitchen?", John asked the DI while Sherlock was off in the kitchen again. Lestrade nodded quickly at one of his man so that they could start and transport the body out off this place.  
"Anthony Rhodes. He is over there. The guy yelling all the time.", Greg answered rubbing his temples.  
" We spoke to him already. The dead man. Daniel Morrison. He was the last person being here yesterday. Working the saucier… well this part of the kitchen over there, where Sherlock is sneaking around. The three people who saw him last didn't arrive yet. Their shift begins in two hours. I already arranged someone to call them in earlier."  
John nodded silently and closed the gab to Sherlock.  
"See something interesting yet?"  
"Oh, al lot."  
John could feel the looks of the working chefs. How they followed every movement of the intruders that seemed just to be so out of place.   
"This is where the victim worked most of the time."  
"How can you tell?"  
"Later. Look into this thing."  
The detective pointed at something that might have been a small square bathtub as well. A deep brown liquid was softly boiling in it.  
"What is it? Smells good?"  
"It's called Jus!", one of the chefs interrupted them in a rude voice. "It's boiling there since yesterday morning. It's our gold, one might say, so I would be very glad if you would not spoil it by hair or other stuff that could fall in there."  
John raised his hands in a defensive way and stepped back from the tub.   
"Sherlock, I think we should go and talk to the head of the kitchen."  
Before John had even finished his sentence his friend was already in the front of the room, right where the waiter received the plates. A really skinny man was shouting around in a sharp voice. To the doctor it sounded like a strange language based on food-codes. He did not understand the meaning behind this, yet he was sure he was telling his team what to do next.  
"May we speak to you about Mr Morrison, please?", Sherlock approached the tired looking man cautiously. A snarl was the answer.  
"Craig, take over the pass!", he yelled and waved his hand to a room that looked like a small office. A man almost twice the size of Rhodes came immediately and went on yelling phrases into the kitchen in a sharp voice.  
"Look, I know this seems strange, us working with Dan dead… but this house has a reputation. We are all shocked and in horror, but we have to go on. My man have the order to help you as good as they can…"  
Sherlock and John nodded simultaneously and looked at each other for a second.  
"Who was the first to enter this morning.", John started the interrogation.  
"That was me. I'm usually the first. It's hard to get office work done, while the service is at action. As you see by yourself."  
The man was absolutely right. Even though they were standing in the most quiet spot, it was still very hard to focus on the spoken words.   
"Did you see anything out of order?", this time it was Sherlock. But the chef just shook his head.  
"No. Everything was fine. Clean as it always is."  
"No blood on the floor?"  
"Not a drop."  
Sherlock took another look over the kitchen and almost seemed disappointed.  
"I wouldn't be too curious about it. We have a cleaning team, coming in at night. They clean the floor and what is left over around the dishwasher. They don't wonder about blood on the floor, since we work with fresh meat here."  
"That's what Greg meant when he said this could be a slaughterhouse.", John murmured to himself.   
"What else do they do but cleaning?", Sherlock kept on with the questions.  
"Well… some of them help out dishwashing while service. So they do garbage as well as storing the deliveries."   
Now it was the head of the kitchen who threw another look into the room.  
"Look, I have to be at Scotland Yard on my day off, anyway. You can ask everything else then. I really have to work now." With this words the thin man pushed through John and Sherlock with a strength John hadn't expected.  
"So what now?", he asked looking at his friend.  
"Back to Baker Street of course."  
John followed out of the kitchen and the both man left without talking to Lestrade and his team again. John knew that Sherlock had at least five ideas so far, but he did not dare to ask. He knew it was to early. Nevertheless he left his friend behind.  
"I'd love to come with you, but I can't"  
"Mary, I know.", Sherlock answered grinning. "I was surprised you managed to stay that calm all the time."  
John looked aside almost ashamed.  
"Well, it's nice to get your mind of the thought ever now and then."  
"And did it work?"  
"Not really. That's why I have to hurry."  
"Right, you don't want to miss the birth of your own child, won't you?" The detective winked at him and waved for a second taxi.  
"Keep me informed, will you?"  
"You bet I will."  
Actually John wanted to ask the same of his friend, but it would have been a little suspicious that he is more interested in this case than in his wife giving birth.


	5. ~ V ~

_"The most dangerous man you will ever meet."  
Sherlock had said that about Mycroft the first day John met him. it was strange that this came up right now, sitting here in the very heart of the british empire next to an almost naked Sherlock Holmes. This was truly a strange family. At first John had trouble keeping his eyes off Sherlock but as soon as Mycroft entered the room it was no problem at all.   
The last days he had seen his lover quite often. After the scene on the pool that was more than just close, John had decided to finally go for it and asked the big question. The two men were officially in a relationship now. Well as officially as it goes. Since then he did a lot of traveling between governmental institutions and 221b Baker Street. Sometimes even via helicopter. And it would certainly be a lie if he would say that he did not like all the attention.  
It was quite a change to see Mycroft occupied with business now. Serious business as John had to learn in the meantime of the Adler-case.   
As a man of moral he was looking forward to spend christmas and new year with his new partner. He didn't even care about the play he was supposed to keep up and ruined another fake-relationship.  
"I already have plans for tonight!", he said into the phone with emphasis. After all they were supposed to meet in this lovely apartment.  
"No, you don't.", Mycroft replied without a pinch of regret in his voice. Of course John dumped the girl by his side at an instant. Even though he could have done it in a more sensitive way. But he just didn't care. Somehow he knew he wouldn't see the older Holmes for some time. He sounded bitter and in some point John was hurt by that.  
The following six month they came along quite good. It took a week but in the end John could not stand it any longer to be a cold hearted bastard and gave in to the first call Mycroft gave him.   
Nevertheless the doctor was very happy when they could finally close the case around Irene Adler.   
"Good, I will bring this upstairs to him, but don't you dare go anywhere without me today."  
"John, I ca-"  
"Sh sh sh…. you ARE the british government, don't tell me you can't decide when to take a day off."  
Mycroft rolled his eyes but he finally gave in to Johns demand. He had earned it after everything he had to endure, standing between Sherlock and Mycroft every now and then.   
Feeling very uncomfortable the tall man was sitting in the cafe waiting for his partner to come back. After a while he started smiling. It has been some time that he had a quiet moment to think things over. But sitting here he realized some things. He suddenly remembered all the looks John gave him, every time they said goodbye with Sherlock in the room. There was a bit I-don't-give-a-fuck in his actions and they proved to show him right. Sherlock was way to occupied by the crimes to notice that there was something going on between his brother and his flatmate. Even though he could tell, that his brother had sex lately, speaking from his reaction in the palace a year ago. But he was still unable to count further.  
When John reappeared Mycroft rose out of his chair immediately.  
"My dear John, I am so sorry…", he began.  
"Oh no…. no-no-no-no!"   
The doctor wanted to get into a discussion, thinking of something to say and to convince the taler man, but Mycroft gently shook his head smiling.  
"I am so sorry I treated you this badly over the last month. I somehow got caught in the play… I will make it up."  
Now John looked very surprised. He gave no other sound and did follow Mycrofts lead in an instant. A luxurious car had stopped in front of the cafe and as his partner hold the door open for him, John slowly started to smile again.   
The kisses exchanged in the car felt great and as close as they could feel after all the fuzz around THE woman. But it was nothing compared to what followed in the expensive hotel suite Mycroft had just reserved for the both men. They literally disappeared from the world surface for a couple of days, not caring about the consequences or the thoughts anyone might have._

~

"It's him again."  
"How do you know?"  
"It's to simple yet so brilliant. It's him saying -Hi, I'm back-"  
"Simple?", John said raising his eyebrow again. Sherlock swirled around looking at his friend in surprise. Somehow he had not really realized that the doctor had entered the flat or even the room.   
"You are back? Is Mary ok?", the detective asked finally coming back to reality. John smiled very proud and raised his phone.   
"As I said. A girl."   
"Oh my… congratulations!"  
Before the doctor could blink Sherlock had embraced him with his long arms. A rare moment for the two men but non of them felt uncomfortable. They were standing in silence gently leaning against each other, both smiling. When Sherlock loosened the hug he could see a trace of tears in his friends eyes.  
"Thanks Mycr-… Sherlock.", John cleared his throughout quickly trying to hide the upcoming horror in his eyes.  
"Her name is Myra Shirley Watson." he added as quick as possible, but he earned himself a very suspicious look. With a few steps Sherlock circled his friend and stand still in front if him.  
"Must have been a rough day for you then. Pulling on you nerves I guess."  
"Yeah… yes, quite exhausting. The birth and all."  
"I see Mary did not hold on to you hand, but your neck then… telling from the scratch marks there."  
"Well, uhm. No that. I had to carrie her to the car."  
"But you had tine to dress yourself properly before you came here."  
"What? I-…" John looked up to Sherlock.  
"What are you doing? This feels like an interrogation, why?"  
"You tell me John.", Sherlock said, raising his own phone. He had just the same picture on it.  
"Your daughter was born five hours ago. Mary send me this one hour after the birth and told me you are on your way. A car needs twenty minutes from the hospital to Baker Street. It takes not a full hour to walk here. Yet you need four to arrive. Where have you been."  
"Why does it matter." Johns throat was horrible dry and still he had the urge to swallow something very heavy.  
"Can't a man be alone for sone hours without being questioned?"  
Sherlock turned his back on the doctor but not without giving him a very disappointed look. He heard clothes rustling while his friend seated himself with a capitulating sigh.  
"Look I did not mean to lie to you."  
No answer.  
"I really came here as fast as possible, but I was stopped, okay? Someone picked me up midway here."  
"Who? … my brother?"   
Sherlock turned around again. His look full of questions.  
"Why?"  
"He is still concerned about you. Thinks you can't handle me and Mary in a happy family. Wants me to keep an eye on you."  
The sudden sound of the doorbell interrupted this conversation and it took only one minute until Lestrade entered the room.  
"Congratulations John. A girl, how sweet!"  
The DI hugged John friendly and then turned to the reason that had brought him to Baker Street.  
"Alright Sherlock. Tracing the footprints from his colleagues back to the freezer told us that none of them could have done it."  
"Told you"  
"And we have consulted the cleaning team as well."  
"And?"  
"Well one of them is not even able to speak english at all. The other just now a few words. They had no reason. They hardly understand what we are questioning them for."  
"One of the four men is lying."  
"Four? It's only a team of three."  
The first look of surprise on Sherlocks face turned into a smile very quick.   
"Now that is interesting. Find the fourth man, he his your murder. Ask the crew about people who got fired recently."  
Lestrade was just nodding in a very puzzled way.   
"You know what? I come with you. I want to talk to them. One of them got to know something. Oh… this is nice. The game is on!" In all his excitement he did not look at John again for a single second. He just grabbed his scarf and coat and ran out of the room. The doctor slowly rose out of his chair rubbing his temples when Lestrade left, too.   
"That was way to close.", he mumbled to himself, before the shadow of this friend appeared in the room again.  
"John, are you coming? Hurry!"  
The bond between them was as strong as always. They looked at each other grinning and John could not tell how relieved he was.  
"What are we waiting for? The game is on!", he said to Sherlock and followed on the spot.  
"So, Shirley, hm? Nice."  
"It was Marys idea."  
They kept on chatting like that on there way. Both seemed happy and relaxed. John even more than Sherlock.  
He did not catch the important and obvious fact, that Sherlock was onto something when they both left the flat. After all this time he did not think about what Sherlock had said once. The true mystery to him was always John Watson. And right now he found his chance to get hold to another piece of the puzzle, maybe even solve the case.


	6. ~ VI ~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Behind the Fall_  
>  and  
> A sudden change in the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the flash back is taking place at times of "The Fall" it is a little longer in this chapter. But there are just too many feels I had to handle with that.

_"Confirmed bachelor …confirmed!", he said slamming the newspaper on the table again.  
"Mycroft, we have to be more careful!"  
His eyes where full of concern but the older Holmes just chuckled amused.  
"Calm down my dear John. Everything is under control. I promise."  
And with this words he put his long arms around his precious partner and buried his nose in Johns hair. The doctor leaned into the embracement and slowly closed his eyes. He felt good, secure and well rested. This must be the most secure place in the whole world he thought, when he felt a kiss on the forehead.  
"Stop that, will you? I am not your child."  
The older man chuckled again and allowed John to turn a bit in his arms before he pulled him back towards his body.  
"I know…"  
"And you don't need to protect me. Remember."  
Mycrofts smile faded a bit and all of a sudden he looked sad.  
"I do. I am sorry my love."  
"Don't be sorry. It's just… I'm not sure if I will be able to return the favor.", John whispered onto his lips. He did appreciate what Mycroft did for him. More than that. He looked deeply into his eyes and finally placed his lips right on Mycrofts.  
"You don't need to."  
There was silence for a moment while they let their eyes speak for them.  
"You could call off the newspapers, couldn't you?"  
"I am afraid that is beyond my power, my dear."  
"Hm… then the next -girlfriend- needs to be more authentic."  
"I can work on that.", Mycroft said but he could not hide the disgust in his voice.  
"I know, you hate seeing me with women."  
"I hate seeing you with anybody else than me."  
Johns cheeks were slightly blushing and to hide that he pulled Mycroft into another kiss. He still had no idea how to respond to that. As far as relationships go John nerves lasted that long. So he decided to keep on the kissing. He let his tongue slid over Mycrofts lips and forced him to finally open his mouth where he quickly engaged his tongue into a small fight. Mycroft was giggling into the kiss and finally pulled his head back. He teased John with a distant look but could not hide the arousal that had come up.   
"Let's go to bed!"  
"Good idea"_

_They tried to be more careful. The times when John visited his lover changed and the cars became more trivial to the sight of the city. But fortune was not with them at this time. John had to spend more and more time at Sherlocks site. Had to. Unconsciously he choose to.  
"Come to the club after breakfast.", said Mycroft and placed a gentle kiss on Johns lips.  
"I will.", he answered and turned around again to press his nose into Mycrofts pillow. He hated it that Mycroft had to leave that early for work. Since it was really difficult to stay over at his place without Sherlock following John, it really bothered him that the night was always that short and they hardly enjoyed a morning together.  
This time John wished Mycroft had just asked him over for a quick get-down-on-eachother. Actually everything had been better than showing him the files of four assassins. After this meeting John left Mycroft without even kissing him goodbye. The doctor was slightly pissed. Again and again he was asked to take care of Sherlock. He could not understand why everyone had the feeling that this man needed protection. He was Johns best friend for sure. One more reason why it was getting harder and harder to lie to him. But beyond that John trusted this man with closed eyes. He knew Sherlock would be able to help him out of all sorts of dangerous situations. Despite the fact that he actually puts him in those, but John was not really sad about that. _

_-SO YES, I AM PISSED-  
-COULD TELL. DONT UNDERSTAND. MY FAULT? MH-  
John almost threw his phone out of the cab but Sherlocks look discourage him and he put it back in his pocket without answering.  
"Trouble with you girlfriend?"  
"Sort of."  
"Want to talk about it."  
"No."  
Silence and finally John clearing his throat.  
"She is such a stubborn dick sometimes. Asking those.. those things from me for no apparent reason. Why can't she just trust me?"  
"I trust you."  
John threw his head back giving a non-happy laugh. He knew Sherlock had no idea what to say to help him feel better. Yet he tried.  
"Thank you, Sherlock."  
The detective knew about the upcoming events at this point. He did already feel sorry. But he had no idea how deeply hurt John would be._

_"John. I am sorry… will you tell him that?"  
Mycroft was not sure wether his partner had heard the last words. By the speed of his steps he might just ignore them. The older Holmes sank back into his chair feeling unimaginable tired at once. The doors slowly swung shut and Mycrofts heart was heavy as were his eyes. When he closed them to take a deep breath, tears were emerging from the angles.  
"It is for your protection my love.", he whispered with a voice that sounded so unlike his own. At this point he felt endlessly lonely. He wished for one thing only.  
-JOHN PLEASE COME BACK AT ONCE-  
He deleted the message without sending it and rolled himself up in the chair. The tears were running in strains down his cheeks and he could not help but let out a low sob. What had this man done to him. The superior icy Mycroft Holmes sitting in a chair shaking and sobbing. With way to much effort he lifted himself out of the chair and got himself a drink. It would be over in a few hours. Just a bit patience and he would have his beloved Dr. John Watson all for himself. Yet Mycroft just like his brother had no idea what it would do to John. What it could cause to see his best friend die in that way._

_"He… She-sh… Sherlock…", he was not master of his own voice any more. Nor of his eyes. Tears were running down his cheeks only stopping now and then when the doctor took a very deep breath.  
"H-he just jumped…. jumped.", again his voice broke off. He looked helpless at Mycroft but the other man sat still without a word.  
"How… haw can you be so calm, how can you not…? He is your broth-" John stopped. Not because his voice was fading again. He had looked into Mycrofts eyes. The silence filling the room in that moment was as heavy as a thousand rocks. Even another deep breath of the doctor did not help to cast that off. With shaking legs he crossed the room and stopped next to Mycrofts chair. He was not able to say another word. Yet he had the feeling Mycroft needed him to keep on talking. It took him a lot of effort to kneel down before his beloved partner and keep on looking into those sad eyes. He had never seen Mycroft as a broken man. It was as bad as seeing Sherlock die.  
"I know you love him, Mycroft. And your heart hurts just as much as mine. But please… don't leave me. I will try to be there for you, give you all the strength you need. but please… I can't go on, if you leave me, too."  
The silence was back, as were the tears in Johns face. His shoulders sunk together and his strength left him. All of a sudden he looked way older and felt so tired.  
"I-I… I love you.", he heard himself say with a feeble voice, before his forehead dropped onto Mycroft knees and he started to sob heartrending.  
A slow twitch flew through Mycrofts body and he finally lifted his hand and slowly stroke the doctors hair.  
"I am so sorry my love. I…" Mycroft Holmes did not know what to say. A shuffled John looked at him, saw the tears that had appeared on the older mans face. And he slowly shook his head.  
"It was not you fault, Mycroft.", John said, sounding very soft all of a sudden. It was exactly what Mycroft expected not to hear. His eyes widened and gave more room to tears.   
And then he started to weep inconsolably.  
John, shocked by this sudden outburst of emotions, almost jumped to his feet and threw his arms around his partner. He did not say another word. He just hold him until he finally calmed down. Both bodies were shaking when they finally went to bed. But not out of lust or arousal. Just mental exhaustion. Neither of them let go of the other man, while they were asleep in that first night after the fall.  
Of course Mycroft was not sad because of his brother. How could he? After he knew exactly how alive Sherlock Holmes was. But to see John like that. Broken, angry and helpless. It simply cracked the ice around his heart and made him feel terrible. He knew until the return of Sherlock his beloved Dr. Watson would not be the same person. Maybe even the return of his brother wouldn't change John back._

~

When they arrived at the restaurant again it was closed. Since almost the whole staff had to show up at NewScotlandYard they had decided to take one day off. Of course in this business there was still someone working. They took the opportunity to clean the whole building. Exactly what the small group of three men needed.   
Sherlock was the first to enter in a rush, leading his steps directly towards the kitchen. He disappeared behind the door before John and Greg had even entered the guest room.   
"What is wrong with him? The case is not that baffling and still, he is all excited…"  
"I have to admit, I don't really know."  
John looked at the tired DI for a moment raising his shoulders. His eyes did not focus to long on the other man. There was quite something to see. The whole room had changed and looked way bigger now with all tables and chairs removed. His steps were slow when he walked towards the kitchen. Voices made their way to his ear and he looked up finally entering the back of the restaurant. Sherlock walked around in his blood hound manner already asking sharp questions to the few people that were currently scrubbing the floor. His blue eyes had lost the sparkling excitement and were looking around almost angry now. Watson could not tell exactly what had changed, but he was sure that he had missed something.  
"Found him already?  
"Sort of."   
Sherlock pointed to one of the guys.  
"Him?", John asked raising his eyebrows.  
"No. His brother. Brought him here. Works for a delivery company now."  
"Ok. You think it was his brother…"  
"Well, it fits perfectly."  
"Does it?"  
Sherlock swirled around and gave John this particular look.  
"John it's obvious."  
"To you it is."  
"I know you can do better. Think!"  
John did think looking around. He tried really hard placing the pictures of the past day onto this very different kitchen. The detective next to him chuckled with amusement.  
"I give you a clue. The sauce cooking in that tub yesterday."  
John tried to picture it.  
"They called it… Jus?"  
"Exactly. It was boiling for almost twenty-four hours when we arrived."  
"So… there were bones in there, right."  
Sherlock clapped his hands in excitement. The doctor was right.  
"What you saw there was the-"  
Sherlock stopped in mid sentence since a phone was ringing. Johns phone. The doctor rolled his eyes, whispered a "so sorry" and answered the call. He had a decent smile on his lips. He had indeed trained his skills a bit and it turned out to pay off. But with every word spoken on the other side of the phone his smile faded a bit more and finally he was as pale as a corps.  
"What happened?", Sherlock asked inpatient since he recognized the change in his friends face.  
"Mary… the child…"  
John did not explain. The both men just turned on their heels and ran out of the room.  
"George, we need your police car, quick!"  
Lestrade didn't even correct Sherlock. He as well had seen the sudden change of faces and was rushing out of the building with the two men.


	7. ~ Mary ~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flash back about the time after the Fall. Containing the first meeting of John and Mary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since two years are quite a long time and Mary is after all an important character I decided to write a character about her and John meeting for the first time. I let it speak for itself without adding new facts to the present case of the story.  
> The next chapter will be flash back _and_ ongoing story again.

_~ Mary ~_

_It was almost terrifying. Hour by hour he was just sitting there. His eyes as blank as the wall in front of him. He had met his therapist but it was of no help. She just wanted to hear what everybody already believed.  
-Hat-Detective turns out to be a fraud-  
He took a deep but silent breath and closed his eyes for a second. Of course it was a mistake and John regretted it immediately.  
\- Nobody could be that clever - You could - … - Goodbye, John. -  
The angles of his eyes started to burn again yet there were no more tears emerging. He didn't even have the strength to cry anymore.   
Another deep breath.  
This time he did not close his eyes, but tried to focus of what was before him. He had no clue where he was, nor how he got here. A slow motion of his head and he could look at the rest of the room. With a sudden relieve his eyes were resting on a body. The tall man had fallen asleep in his armchair a newspaper still folded on his lap.  
"Mycroft", John said and was slightly frightened by the sound of his own voice. John thought that he could hide the pain and the anger. But in the end that took to much effort as well. The older Holmes had slowly opened his eyes and looked around as well. Just the first bit of a second though, then he jumped onto his feet ignoring the newspaper. Before the grey paper had stopped rustling on the floor, Mycroft had reached the sofa John was sitting on and dropped onto his knees in front of him.  
"My dear John, how do you feel?"  
"I-… Mycroft… tired."  
"It's alright my love, shall I bring you to bed?"  
John cleared his throat and watched how Mycroft took his hands and slowly stroke the back with his thumbs.   
"No… no, it's alright. I… what about you?"  
His voice was still full of agony but his mind slowly let go of the thought of Sherlock Holmes and returned to his older brother. A very feeble smile appeared on the older mans face and John could see all the pain and the sorrow in his eyes. And he knew it was because of him.  
"It is not of importance."  
"Yes, it is!", he responded sounding way more like himself now. He slid forward and off the sofa to kneel very close before Mycroft.  
"I did dot mean to cause you… this… Mycroft."  
The older man was out of words. He was very happy that John after a week finally responded to him again. But all the grief in his eyes was way to much for Mycroft to look at. Good for him he did not need to endure that any longer. John had freed his hands and let them rest on Mycrofts back, leaning his own face against that of his love. A sigh of relieve slipped through Mycrofts lips as he leaned into the hug.  
"It's alright. As long as you are back now.", he whispered giving away way too much of his own feelings. But at this point he had decided to not care anymore. Not because it was easier but because it was the only fair thing to do to John. To just be honest._

_"I really don't think it's a good idea."  
"You look gorgeous my dear."  
"What does that matter? Why do I have to meet with women? We don't need to fool Sh…"Johns voice broke off and he looked at Mycroft like an angry child.  
"I told you it's not a date."  
"Then why am I dressed like that?"  
"Cause it suits you.", Mycroft said as charming as ever his eyes full of pride about that man.  
"Ok. So I dress like that for you. But why do I have to meet that woman?"  
"She asked me for a favor."  
"And?"  
"And I have to see how good you two come along, before I decide if I can help her."  
John just gave a short grunt. He didn't like the idea.  
"Then why exactly are you not coming with me?"  
"My love, I have to work… remember?"  
"Hm… the government. Yeah…"  
Mycroft placed his lips softly on Johns without letting go off the smile. When the shorter man tried to move backwards to go on arguing, Mycroft placed his hand on his neck and hold the kiss. Eventually John gave in and let his tongue slid towards Mycrofts lips. It was only then when the older man interrupted their kiss with laughter.  
"Don't try to distract me.", Mycroft said with a sweet smile.  
"Alright, you won."  
"Wonderful. Now comb your hair and off with you… handsome devil."  
Finally John returned the smile and leaned forward for another kiss.  
"You don't try to start a war. I don't like you being too busy, when I am back."  
"I promise."  
John had not the slightest idea who he was going to meet. He had not even a name or a broad description of her face. He was still not really in the mood to be among people. It was only three month now since they had buried Sherlock. But he knew how hard it was for Mycroft to see him at home moaning day by day about his brother.   
"Let's do this for him…", he mumbled to himself while he left the car and entered the restaurant. He straightened his suit and followed the waiter. A jung woman was already sitting at the reserved table. She smiled gently and rose as soon as she saw him arrive.  
"Hello, nice to finally meet you. I am Mary. Mary Morstan."  
"John Watson. Hello."  
The shook hands and sat down.  
Since this was not a date John had absolutely no idea how to handle this situation. There was no reason to show off and nothing to defend. A sudden idea popped up in his head and he turned his eyes on her.   
-Observe, don't just look- a voice in the far back of his head said.  
Clever.  
Short sighted.  
Nurse… part time.  
Cat lover.  
John lifted his eyebrow and looked surprised. All those words appearing in his mind. And he knew they made sense. Yet it would take him hours to explain that.   
"What?", she asked seeming even more interested in him now.  
He gave a short laughter.  
"Nothing… just… I remembered a late friend."  
"A good memory I hope."  
"Sort of…"  
"Sherlock then?"  
"How…?"  
"Oh come on, it was all over the news. Your name is not really an unknown in London. You looked a little less sad, while remembering and said -late- friend."  
"You are clever."  
"Course I am."  
And there the ice started to brake.   
They had a lovely dinner. Mycroft chose an excellent menu for this evening. The food was delicious as was the wine. The two were having smalltakl really soon and after they finished the dessert there was silence again. John could not help to wish himself back in Mycrofts arms and his look became distant.  
"You don't usually wear suits like that, do you?", Mary asked, taking a closer look. John felt like caught in a naughty act and looked up surprised.  
"Well… no, not really. It's more of a gift."  
"I can tell. You don't feel to comfortable in it."  
"No. But… you know."  
"Yeah… stuff you do for your boyfriend."  
"Excactly."  
Silence.  
"Oh fuck…"  
"So he is your boyfriend, I knew it!"   
She clapped her hands while John was shrinking in his chair. How could he be so careless with his words and run into a trap like that. He knew he was in deep trouble.  
"Don't worry. I won't tell him, I know."  
She winked at him and leaned a bit forward. She wanted details and there was no need to ask for them aloud.   
When John looked into her eyes again, she was smiling as gentle as possibly. He straightened himself a little bit, feeling like an insecure boy again.  
"I don't want to lose him. He is… I need him. But I think he does not understand that… how…"  
"Why you feel that crushed by loosing your friend?"  
John widened his eyes a bit and watched her lean back. And then he smiled. A true friendly smile. The first since Sherlock jumped.  
They spend another two hours talking and finally after all this time he could tell somebody how happy he was to have Mycroft by his side but how difficult it could be sometimes. When they left the restaurant they promised to meet again._

_John knew he had found a friend. Someone to trust as much as he trusted Sherlock. And as much as he loved Mycroft, there were things he could not discuss with him.  
As the friendship grew Mary brought him back to work in a local hospital. They chatted regularly and she was very happy to help John getting over his grief. Since he could not move in with Mycroft he and Mary finally decided to share a flat a little off the busy center of the city. Johns life was improving again. So was the relationship between him and Mycroft.  
He never asked what exact favor Mary was asking of the older Holmes, but John had a slight idea that she needed protection and that this was all part of a witness-protection-program.   
And before he knew it, almost two years had passed since the fall. It was time to move on. Let him go and rest. And most important, ask the final question._


	8. ~ VII ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is by far the weirdest fluff-angst-combination I have ever written and I am a little shocked about my own choice of events in this chapter. But there is a sense behind that, I promise.

_"I punched him."  
"I know."  
"I will punch you, too."  
"John…"  
"No! Not John. You knew all the time. How could you…?"  
"It was for your own good."  
"My own good? Seriously?"  
"We wanted to protect you."  
"Why? Because you think the poor retired army cripple can't watch after himself?"  
"Please clam down.?  
"NO. No… not this time, Mycroft. Not this time. You betrayed me."  
"I did not-"  
"You broke my heart. You knew-"  
In the end it was Johns voice breaking. His eyes were already filled with tears while he was pressing the older man against the wall. His fist had a firm grip on Mycrofts shirt and his elbow pressed almost violently into his rips. Yet Mycroft did not complain or gave a sound of pain. But his eyes changed.  
"Two years… how could you?", he whispered voiceless but Mycroft only shook his head.  
"HOW?", John enforced his grip and pressed his whole body against Mycroft. His knee slightly leaned against the other mans groin, their faces as close as it gets without kissing.   
But there was still silence.   
Only a surprised gasp filled the room as John let go of the taller man.   
A relived smile was hit by a strong fist and Mycroft tumbled a bit, before he got down on his knees. Even though John had predicted his action, they somehow surprised both men. Nevertheless John helped Mycroft back onto his feet. By putting up the grip on his shirt again and pressing him back against the wall.  
"I am still waiting."  
Tears were running down his cheeks now.  
"Do you have any idea how it felt? For me? When he said YOU knew?"  
"I… no."  
"Well let me tell you, it was worse than seeing him fall."  
Johns voice broke again as he spoke but his grip was as firm as it could be. In a very slow motion Mycroft put his fingers around Johns wrist.  
"I could not… I had to stick to the plan.", Mycroft said now and something in his voice had changed. Johns free hand flew through the air again slapping Mycroft who took it silently.   
"But… hit me as often as you need…", he started, tears now running down his own cheeks. "…it does not hurt as much as seeing you broken after the fall. Watching you, without the possibility to help you, made me die a little bit each day."   
Mycrofts voice was not shaking nor breaking. But it was filled with bitterness. So were his eyes as he looked directly into Johns. The doctor was crying even more now, giving a small sob as he raised his hand again. But he did not have the strength for another hit. He just placed his hand gently onto Mycrofts cheek and leaned his forehead against the taller mans.  
"How could you… do this to us.", John whispered.  
"You have no idea how sorry I am, my love."  
John then slowly stepped back. His eyes still filled with tears and anger.  
His hand had let go of Mycroft and was now gripping something in Johns jacket.   
"Todays dinner… it was our…"  
"I know. Our day."  
"Why do you send her?"  
"I don't know. I told him you would be there. She is a good friend. I could not just leave you alone with him returning."  
Mycroft had slowly slid down back to the wall and was now resting on his knees. His eyes, filled with guilt, were looking up to the doctor.  
"It was our day!", John raised his voice again.  
"OURS!", he finally jelled and threw a small box against Mycrofts chest.  
"Ours…"  
And then John sunk down on his knees and tears were coming up his eyes again, as Mycroft looked at the small box. It had sprung open and was revealing a not to luxurious ring.  
"…I wanted to ask you today… but you ruined it.", John said without being able to control his sobbing. He was caught between feelings. All the anger about Sherlock. About lost possibilities and adventures was mixing with the anger about the ruined date. The date and the big question that still needed to be asked.  
"You…?"  
The surprise on Mycrofts face devoured all other expressions. He had expected everything but not that. His trembling fingers were picking up the box and he hesitated to touch the ring. For a second he doubted his own senses. But it was real. He moved it back and forth in his hand and as he looked up to John again the doctor had brought himself into the typical propose-position.  
"Mycroft Holmes. You are by far the most annoying and stubborn dick I can imagine. You are worse than Sherlock in so many ways. You are cold-hearted and insensitive… and I don't want to live without you anymore. I need you by my side. Your strength and the warmth you are giving me."  
He needed to take a deep breath to control himself.  
"I love you, Mycroft. Will you marry me?"_

~

"WHAT?"  
Johns voice echoed through the whole entrance area of the hospital. A couple of people tried to tell him to calm down, but he was shaking his head violently. He took a sharp breath and lowered his voice a bit without losing the sound of anger.  
"She is my wife. If you can't let me see her, then who else?"  
A warm hand was put down onto his shoulder and he looked helpless into the blue eyes of his friend.  
"I get my brother to help us."  
"You brother is not in the country…", John snarled almost offended. As if he had not already thought about that. But the elder Holmes was far away on behalf of the government. Sherlock was surprised for a second about John knowing more than he did, but he pushed the thought aside since there was more serious stuff to think about.  
"I want to see my firstborn and my wi-"  
"You firstborn?", the doctor cut Johns words off looking confused and a little helpless now.  
"There is no firstborn."  
John went pale.  
"But…"  
"Dr. Watson your wife was carrying a dead body in her for far too long. You can call yourself lucky if we can safe her, since the poisoning went pretty far already."  
"But… the… picture…"  
Sherlock and John were looking at their phones at the same moment. Both confused. Both, out of different reasons.  
"We are currently trying our best, removing the corpse but…", the doctor was not able to keep on talking. Telling a man that his wife was rotting from the inside for a couple of days maybe weeks already was too much for the young doctor. All three knew that it was very likely that Mary would not make it.  
"How is that possible?", John asked with a very feeble voice even though he already knew the answer.  
"Medication.", Sherlock answered. The doctor was now as pale as John himself.  
"I am sorry Dr. Watson.", he said and strode off to leave the two man behind. John flung his hands into his hair, his eyes filling with tears already.  
"This can't be…", he whispered. But when he looked at Sherlock he found no support nor an answer to all his unasked questions. The detective was simply raising his phone so John could see the picture.  
"You just forwarded that to me, didn't you?"  
John looked onto his own phone again.  
"You weren't here for her giving birth. You never actually saw the child.", Sherlock went on in a calm voice that contained a lot of anger and disbelief.  
"Did you even bring her here?"  
"YES!", John finally answered and caught Sherlocks eyes in desperation.  
"Yes, I did bring her here. I did… but…"  
He was a doctor. How could he not see what was wrong with her? John tumbled a step forward where Sherlock caught him before he could go down on his knees. He did not have the strength to fight the tears anymore and simply hid his face in Sherlocks scarf. Very slowly the taler man raised his arms to embrace his friend. There were things to discuss. Clearly John had lied to him. But still. He could see that his friend was in agony and so he did the only thing he could do. Stay at his side.  
"I am impressed, that you could lie to me… but you have to tell me the truth when you feel better.", Sherlock whispered into Johns ear, before he directed him towards the door. There was nothing they could do here. Not to feel better nor to help Mary. Waiting in a more familiar place was clearly the better option for all of them. The soldier just replied with a short grunt that must have been a mixture of sobbing and giggling. After that he went silent. No word in the cab and non in the next hour after they arrived at 221b Baker St. There was nothing to say for him.   
He was helpless.   
Lost.   
Sherlock kept silent with him. Both man in their chairs. Facing each other until John finally came back to himself.  
"It would have been my child. Sort of."  
"I thought so."  
"What a terrible doctor am I to not notice-"  
"You had no chance. At this point of the pregnancy signs of poisoning might as well just be the precursors to the birth itself."  
"I don't want to lose her."  
"You don't love her."  
John looked up in terror.  
"How can you say that?"  
"I do understand more about love than most people think.", Sherlock said, sounding almost offended and clearly hurt.  
"I do love her… she is…"  
"A friend."  
"The one that stood by my side after you… after the fall."  
Sherlock leaned back in his chair, his fingers resting under his chin. The look in his eyes was full of fascination.  
"You are not mad at me?", John asked slowly recovering his voice from feeble to an adequate tone.  
"Mad?", Sherlock chuckled.  
"I am very impressed. You kept that a secret before ME. And that for over a year!"  
Yes, Sherlock Holmes was delighted by this discovery.   
"My dear John, I did not think of you being that clever… I have to apologize."  
At this point John did not know how serious Sherlock was. It might just have been his version of cheering up a friend. But on him it worked. He started smiling a bit.  
"You would be surprised."  
"So there is more?"  
Sherlock raised an eyebrow while John just gave him a mischievous smile. Somehow he felt relived and a little distracted.  
But the phone was about to ring and the news that they had tried to procrastinate as long as possible was finally delivered.  
"We are very sorry Dr. Watson but your wife did not make it."  
Johns hands were shaking as he dropped the phone again. He shrugged a little startled when he turned around. Without him noticing, Sherlock had approached him. He was now laying both of his hands onto Johns shoulders looking him directly into the eye.  
"If loved wife or good friend, I know Mary meant a lot to you and I promise, I will not rest until I found who did this to her. It is the least I can do after I failed my vow…"  
John could not think of anything to say. The news were to much for him and he wished more than ever to just hide in Mycrofts arms. But his love was far away. And so he took the first body to lean on he found as he threw himself into Sherlocks embracement.


	9. ~ VIII ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter I had to upgrade to explicit.   
> Actually I first planed to do this flash back part in a separate story but now it just fits too good. And I figured there is no better way to handle the time around the wedding.   
> Plus it does not distract too much from the heavy turn in the ongoing case.

_The door wasn't even closed entirely as he crashed already against Mycroft pushing him further into the room. The older man dropped his umbrella and tumbled a bit more backwards. He wanted to say something but he didn't even get the chance to catch his breath. Almost helpless he watched how two hands ripped off his jacked and were soon working on his shirt.  
He himself was way to overrun to react. But he could finally see a moment to speak, when the two soft lips let go of his.   
He managed a moan instead of any words. John had lost no time. He placed his lips on Mycrofts neck and worked his way down using tongue and teeth. He had soon freed Mycrofts upper body from any fabric and teased the mans chest with small bites while his hands were already working on the belt.  
A deep breath from Mycroft made the doctor look up with a grin before he ripped down trousers and shorts. The blue eyes of John rested for a second on the already half stiff cock and his grin just got a little wider. His fingers were fast when they seeked their way down between the naked tights and as Mycroft threw his head back moaning, John could not help but participate.   
The last hours had been way too long. The ride with the cab, the check in on the airport, the flight. They did use the private jet but they had still to remain calm and not let their guard down before others since they were not entirely sure whom to trust with it.   
And not only was John longing for his partner in those hours. He had not seen him for days in fact.  
Of course Mycroft said yes.   
And soon after that the both man got married in secret. But John insisted on the honeymoon and that was a little more difficult. But eventually Mycroft came up with a plan that did not only save the honeymoon but gave John the possibility to celebrate his wedding. Mary was more than happy to play her part since this was not only fun for her, but enforced the facade of her hideout.   
The rest went easy and there was not even a need to fear Sherlock. Johns best friend was so nervous about the whole wedding, that it did not cross his mind that all this was part of a play. Even the attempt murder fit in perfectly.  
John had to admit he felt sorry for Sherlock but in the end they could proof to each other how close they really were.  
Right now John was close to loosing himself.   
He buried his teeth in the soft skin of Mycrofts hipbones and suppressed a moan of his own. His hand was already stroking the full length of Mycroft who was hardly able to do anything against John. And then again he enjoyed this a lot.  
Usually it takes him days to let go off the work and just relax on vacation. But this right here pushed his mind a lot faster into the abyss of not thinking at all. There was just one thing and one only.  
"John!"  
His breath was heavy when he lifted his head to catch the look of his lover.   
His husband.   
The soldier pulled himself along the body to kiss those slim lips again. But his hand rested were it was. Right on Mycrofts groin.  
"No chance to get out of this, honey…", John whispered breathless between kisses. He was now bent over Mycroft who laid on his back in the middle of a nice suite. The sun was just setting and filling the expensive room with a golden light.   
John had no eye for that.   
He was busy getting rid of his own clothes. Especially the jeans since they had become way to tight between his legs.  
Mycroft used the short break to catch his breath and scan Johns body.  
"Marvelous.", he managed to say before the skilled hands went on playing with his cock. The doctor gave him another grin and placed his lips on Mycrofts for another passionate kiss.   
Luckily their luggage was not far from them and it took John only one arm to reach the bag with the lube. Johns hands were shaking when he tried to open the bottle. He had his body pressed against Mycroft, rubbing their cocks between their bellies now. Both man were moaning in pleasure. But it was not enough.  
"God, I need to feel you.", John hissed fighting with the bottle. He was more than relieved when Mycrofts steady hands helped him.  
They did not lose more time though. Mycroft turned onto his belly and got to his knees giving John everything he could, while the doctor was preparing him. After the second finger pushed into Mycroft John lost his temper completely.   
Until now the elder Holmes had just moaned in pleasure, but when he felt Johns prick pressing against his hole he needed to take a sharp breath.   
This was not the first time they had sex but it sure has been a while since the last time. He gave a low cry of pain as John pushed slowly into him. But he did not asked him to stop. Relying on his mercy to give him a break turned him on.   
Being resolved, cold and oh so untouchable could be a burden. This was a very welcome change for the man in a minor position of the british government.  
Johns hands had a firm grip on the hip before him. He was shaking a little trying to hold still for a while and give Mycroft a rest.  
"Enjoy this moment… cause when it ends, I'm gonna fuck you senseless.", John whispered.  
"God, please…", Mycroft replied pressing himself against the cock. That was way too much for the doctor. He soon started thrusting into the tall man, hitting deeper into him with every blow.   
He had waited for this a long time. But it was worth it.   
Taking up the speed he knew this was just the beginning of their holiday. Ten days just the two of them.  
"I will make you scream all over this suite.", John said, when he bent over Mycroft a bit before pushing hard back into him. His skilled hands closed gently around Mycrofts cock. The older man rolled his eyes under closed lids, his body shaking heavily and his hands looking for something on the floor to hold on while his inner body seemed to explode as he came in Johns hands. Feeling the muscles tightened around his prick John gave in to the same sensations and unloaded completely into Mycroft. It took them a couple of minutes to catch their breath again. John sunk down onto Mycrofts back and blew a kiss into his neck. He did not move his hip though.   
He had other plans.  
Just a short rest.   
This was not over yet. Not for him.   
And he was sure to surprise Mycroft with that action._

~

"I need a shower."  
Sherlock nodded and watched his friend raise out of his chair and disappear behind the bathroom door. They had tried to talk things over, but John wasn't really up to it.   
His nerves were still to unstable. It was clear to Sherlock that this friend was caught in feelings.   
John had other reasons though. He just did not know how much of the truth he could tell his friend without risking anything. And he knew the relationship with Mycroft was at stake. At things weren't working out for them at all at the moment for Mycroft had to travel a lot lately and John had this Job at the clinic.  
The doctor closed his eyes and focused on the warm water.   
"Too much…", he mumbled and tried to clear his thoughts.  
Sherlock did not move. He sat in his chair, hands folded under his chin and eyes fixed on the bathroom door. He knew he missed something but he couldn't figure it out. It annoyed him a lot. He knew he would get to it eventually but he wanted to know it now.   
His thoughts were interrupted abruptly.   
John had left the bathroom but his appearance was quite disturbing for the detectives eye.   
"Don't say a word.", John snapped when Sherlock opened his mouth.   
"I spilled water over my clothes and forgot to get a towel.", he explained.  
No, John was not naked. He had wrapped himself into the sheet Sherlock usually kept in the bathroom.  
"Suits you.", Sherlock said despite his friend giving him an angry look. John just shook his head.   
"Not feeling better I presume?"  
The detective rose out of his chair and went over to John who stood in the doorway hesitating about where to go.   
"What am I supposed to do now?", John asked helpless looking up to his friend with big eyes. He knew how irrational this question was but he did not know what else to say or do.   
Sherlock was as helpless as his friend. He stood next to him, eyes fixed on the sheet and mouth slightly open. He mumbled something John could not understand and the doctor closed his eyes smiling a bit.  
"Sorry, Sherlock.", he whispered and turned around to leave for his room. He did not make it very far though, since two long arms closed tightly around him and pulled him back to Sherlock.  
The detective was still no person of sentiments, but living with John had taught him a lot about how to treat friends. And thanks to John Sherlock knew how comforting a hug could feel.   
Still he did not expect to feel every muscle of Johns trained body pressing against his own when his friend buried his face in his shirt once more. There was silence filling the room but it could not reach his head. Nor did any thought. There was just his heart beating heavily, filling even the darkest corner of his mind palace.   
A shiver went down his spine as he felt Johns hands on his back. The sheet slid a little down and was now hold only by the two bodies pressing together.   
It was only now that Sherlock realized how much he had missed his friends since he moved in with Mary.   
He closed his eyes and buried his nose in Johns hair while his arms tightened the embracement, hands resting just a few inches over Johns butt.  
John didn't mind.   
He could smell the decent perfume his friend was using and how the warmth of his body washed away all the heavy thoughts. It even eased the pain about Mycrofts absence that seemed to be more than unimportant all of a sudden.   
It took John a couple of minutes to realize that Sherlocks body was reacting to him. He had lost himself in the embracement, finally managing to silence his thoughts. But as he moved slightly closer he could feel it.   
The fast heartbeat.   
The hot skin.   
He lifted his head in confusion just in time to get a glimpse of Sherlocks widened pupils before the detective closed his eyes and placed his lips onto Johns.  
That was the latest point for John to back off, jump back or push out of Sherlocks arms.   
But he didn't.   
Quite the opposite happened. He leaned his head into the kiss, moved his lips against the dry ones of Sherlock and gave his hands permission to move along the well trained back.  
Sherlock ended this kiss with a gasp.   
"John… I… this."  
The doctor watched the scene as if he stood behind himself unable to stop what was about to happen.   
The two bodies backed off an inch and the sheet fell to exposed his naked body. Sherlock was blushing immediately and could not take his eyes off his former flatmate. There was nothing both man could do at this point. Nothing besides dashing forward a bit again and engaging each other into another now not so shy kiss.   
Both minds were completely blank and left plenty of room for pure lust and desire.  
John quickly found his hands undressing Sherlock while the detective pushed him towards the bedroom. The door fell close with the last piece of fabric landing of the floor. A second of hesitation and the naked bodies were leaning against each other in curiosity. Sherlock took over the lead and was starting to taste each part of Johns skin.   
It has been quite a while since the doctor felt desired. Gaining this feeling by someone apparently asexual turned him on in a very special way. And Sherlock did more than just a good job.   
It did not matter if the experience came by observation or training, but Sherlock had quite some skills. John found himself quickly moaning under the slim body that felt so forbidden yet so sweet.   
It was only the next morning that the regrets reached him as he woke up, his nose resting in Sherlocks dark curls. And as comforting as it was to wake up in those long arms, as horrifying was the sudden realization of his mistake.


	10. ~ IX ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story starts to haunt me. I have conversations in my mind that bother me until I write them down. So it is very likely that I will throw the last chapters at you in very short intervals.
> 
> So here is the last chapter containing anything that happened in the series. Everything that follows will be mad up by me.

_Charles Augustus Magnussen.  
Mycroft shivered by the sound of this name just as much as Sherlock did. He turned around and threatened the others to leave and forget, before he turned around to John and Sherlock again.  
"I hope, I won't have to threaten you as well.", he said, looking sharply at his brother.  
"Well I think, we'd both find that embarrassing.", John answered. He could not stop himself from teasing Mycroft like that and gave him a naughty grin. The elder Holmes did not reply but looked more than just a bit concerned at the two. Sherlock was to high to notice both, concern and love.  
As soon as Mycroft was outside of the flat, he grabbed his phone.  
-BE CAREFUL! THIS MAN IS A REAL THREAT. MH-  
John lifted one eyebrow but left this message unanswered. He did not understand the deeper meaning behind that and since there was an adventure ahead, he did not take his time to think it trough. A big mistake as it turned out.   
Events were chasing each other and in the end, John had to discover, that his friend Mary was not the victim in this protection program but more likely the murderer. She had lied to him and that was something he could not bear. To many people had lied in the last years. Sherlock, Mycroft, Mary. Even the doctor himself. It was too much for him and he had his breakdown in the flat.   
Under different circumstances he would have told Sherlock everything back then. That the marriage was a fake. At least with Mary. That he loved a man who was as much a psychopath as Mary and Sherlock. And that he had kept that from him for way too long. But the medical condition of his friend got worse to soon and as time went on, Mycroft had convinced John to be silent.  
That was when Mycroft made a mistake.  
He thought his brother had learned his lesson and was not going after Magnussen again.   
Losing Sherlock for real. This thought had hit him way to hard. He knew now, that even though he wanted Sherlock and John separate, without the doctor by his side, he would have lost his brother long ago.   
And that was not an option. Mycroft accepted the friendship at this point for the first time since he knew John.  
Yet the most frightening off events was still about to happen, when Sherlock took John to visit apple-door.   
As soon as Mycroft woke up and realized his mistake, he made up his mind about something.  
He needed to take care of his brother again. With Moriarty gone his attention did not just focused on John too much, but he discovered truly dangerous people beyond criminals. He had to stop that. For the sake of John.  
All three of them went home by helicopter in silence. It was only days later that Mycroft could finally put his arms around John and bury his face on his shoulder.  
"I am so sorry my dear, I got careless.", he said failing to suppress a sob.  
"It's fine. It wasn't your fault and it's over now.", John said with a sweet voice and closed his arms around Mycroft.  
"Please stay here for a coupe of days.", he whispered. John agreed without hesitation.   
All this fuzz about Mary and Magnussen was very tiering and he could need a break from that. And after all, Mycroft was still the one steady thing in his life, that kept him sane.   
Eventually the days came to an end and they met on the airport to say goodbye to Sherlock. Luckily Mycroft had prepared him for this and John did not burst out into tears nor did he flung himself into an awkward hug. He feared this might be a goodbye forever but there was still hope that the brilliant mind of Sherlock Holmes would find a way out of it.  
It were Mycrofts words that solved Johns problem at once.   
When the elder Holmes declared that Moriarty was back, John could not help but to jump into a short hug with Mary since Mycroft kept a little distance between them.  
It might have been to keep others from thinking of them as a couple. But it is more likely that Mycroft was afraid that John could overhear the conversation he had on the phone.  
"I am a hundred percent sure. Bring him back now. … Yes. … Yes, he has his orders. … Very good. … talk to you later. Bye."_

~

It was not hard to leave the bed since he almost fell out of it, when he was aware of his mistake. Since then he had paced up and down in the living room trying to find words he could use to tell Sherlock. Words to apologize to Mycroft.  
John knew this was the ruin for their friendship if not his own end since he would lose Mycroft as well. But his mind was as blank as it could be and he wished more than ever for Mary to come back. She could help him.  
When Sherlock finally woke up and entered the living room, John sat in his chair with blank eyes.  
He tapped his shoulder as he passed by and seated himself opposite the doctor. His eyes as sharp as ever, he took his moment to scan John. A little grin appeared on his face. The signs of the night were clear.   
It was not a full second until the grin disappeared again. Sherlock was aware of the pain in Johns eyes. But since he did not know better, he related them with the loss of Mary.  
He leaned back and put his fingers under his chin. His eyes became vacant as he thought matters through. After half an hour of silence he suddenly looked back at John.  
"We need to find out who was behind the last… five to three cases. Three actually."  
"Why?", John asked trying not to wonder about Sherlock who acted almost like the last night never happened.  
"Clearly. They were a distraction for us to not recognize Marys health or her medication. All cases were in some place interesting, yet very obviously."  
"Were they?"  
"Yes, obviously to me. But distracting enough. Now, the last question…"  
"Why would anyone want Mary dead? You know the answer to that.."  
"No. Not Mary. Who wants you to suffer? Who wants you to be a widower?"  
For Sherlock it was clear that this was about John and not about Mary in the first place. They had cleared her name, that was for sure. But he did not know why this happened now. There were other possibilities to get rid of her. And he knew there were plenty of ways to hurt John, when he was away. Why did Moriarty tried to destroy John only now?  
John went pale as a ghost at this moment, for clarity hit his mind.  
He had done deductions before.   
Slowly though.   
But this time was different. It was most likely the first time they happened in his head automatically and as fast as they did in Sherlocks head usually.  
"You have solved the last case then?", he asked with a controlled voice, knowing Sherlock would fall for that question. And the detective did. He never missed a chance to show off, especially not in front of John. He raised out of his chair and turned his back at John with a sigh.   
"Don't tell me you did not see it."  
"See what?", John managed to ask before he felt his throat went entirely dry. Shaking fingers were typing on his phone.  
-WHEN WILL YOU BE BACK? JW-  
He lifted his look just in time for Sherlock to turn around.  
"The bones!"  
Sherlock sighted again.   
"The forth member of the cleaning team. He was fired for messing up a delivery of bones. He stored some in the freezer and left others in the garbage. The ones he put in the freezer were shaped like an axe-like blade. At least after they froze again. He just needed to grab them after everybody but the sous chef was gone, kill him and drop them into the cooking sauce, that was basically every second day in that tub-like thing."  
John gave him an amazed look and ignored cramps in his stomach. His phone gave a short buzz and he tried to look causal when he opened the message.  
-JUST ABOUT FIVE MORE HOURS. MISS YOU, TOO. MH-  
John must have lost control over his face. When he looked up, Sherlock was kneeling before him putting the back of his hand against Johns forehead.  
"Are you alright, John?", he asked concerned.  
The doctor pushed him aside and jumped out of the chair. He could not stand this anymore.   
The play had reached it's end in his opinion.   
He paced towards the door. When he gazed back, Sherlock looked puzzled.  
"I am married, Sherlock."  
The taller man raised an eyebrow.  
"Y-you were.", he stumbled while his face went pale as well.  
"No. Not to Mary. That was a fake marriage so I can celebrate with you. I still AM married."  
Since he felt tears coming up, John turned around.  
"I am sorry, Sherlock.", he said running out of the flat without another stop.  
The detective was still on his knees.   
Usually in those situations John was the one to help him with his reaction. But in this special case, he couldn't. His moral, his heart had just left him. And it felt wrong. But he had not the strength to follow him yet, nor had he the slightest idea where his friend was going.


	11. ~ X ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finally closes the loop between current events and the past.  
> There will be no further flash backs in the following chaps.

_  
"How is that even possible?"  
"I don't know."  
"But you saw him die, right? Shot his own brain out."  
"I thought I did."  
"You thought?"  
They looked at each other and John could not help but grin.   
Back in Baker Street they sat opposite each other trying to restore the data they had on Moriarty.   
"You are happy that he is back…", Sherlock said and could not help it, but grin as well. John cleared his throat and looked away.   
But there was no chance he could hide his smile now.  
"Well I guess… after Magnussen he is a more than welcome playmate.", the doctor admitted and Sherlock gave a short laughter.  
"I prefer a good psychopath over a cold blooded businessman.", he added.  
He looked back at Sherlock and his smile slowly vanished.  
"What do we do about him? Can't just let him walk around.", John went on.  
"First of all we need Mycroft to track him again."  
"That will take some time after what happened."  
"What? Why? How do you know?"  
John had trouble to not look away as he tripped over his own words.  
Again he had become careless.  
"I don't. I just assume.", he mumbled quickly and cleared his throat again.  
"Hm… but you might be right with that."  
" So you just want to wait for him?"  
"No, not for him. For his victims.", Sherlock said grinning again.  
"He will hide a bit. If he shows up here now, Mycroft will have his hands on him in a few seconds, I guarantee. And he knows.", Sherlock said, not knowing that the first client to preach about a victim of Moriarty was already on his way to 221b._

_"Is this a freaking game of hide and seek?", John yelled through the room, not caring about what the people next door would think.  
"Please calm down, my dear."  
"But… How can you be so calm? Do you saw the last victim? He is walking all over us."  
"There is nothing we can do now."  
"Can't you track the broadcast signal?"  
"We tried, believe me. But he is not just a simple criminal.", Mycroft replied and crossed his hands over his lap.   
John was pacing up and down the room.  
"But more people will die.", John said and spun around to look at Mycroft whos face hardly changed.   
"People die everyday my dear, try not to weep over that."  
"How can you say that?"  
"I am sorry, but you know it is the truth."  
With those words Mycroft rose out of his chair and went over to John, who had stopped by the window.   
He pulled him into his arms and forced him to look into his eyes.  
"My love… we have our ears and eyes everywhere. It will not be easy for him to kill again. I promise.", he whispered onto Johns lips. But the doctor did not feel too comfortable in this embracement. The smile on Mycrofts face was too calm and the spark in his eyes somehow troubled John.   
It was only for the soft stroke of Mycrofts fingers in his neck, that John relaxed and leaned forward into a kiss while he put his hands on Mycrofts hips.   
"Sorry, I bother you with that. I guess after the latest events and with Mary pregnant I am just easily worried.", he apologized in a low voice and leaned into another kiss.  
"I have to admit, three strange cases in two weeks are quite a bit."  
John looked up, almost surprised.  
"That means you understand me."  
"I guess so."  
While John smiled relieved, the elder Holmes seemed to be a little troubled.  
"What's wrong?"  
"Nothing."  
"Liar."  
Mycroft sighted and looked almost a little proud at John.  
"Your deductions are getting better."  
"Don't change the subject."  
A glare at Mycroft out of blueish eyes and the tall man gave in.  
"I have to leave for a couple of weeks."  
"What? Now? But-"  
"I know, I promised we would spend more time together. But things have changed. I need to take care of some affairs."  
"When do you leave?"  
"In two days. I will be back in a week basically… but just for one day."  
"And then you go somewhere else."  
"Yes."  
"How often?"  
"Three times."  
"Three weeks without you than…"  
Mycroft placed a soft kiss onto Johns lips and the doctor tightened his grip on Mycrofts hip.  
"Can I stay for tonight."  
"You have to."  
John rested his head against his husbands shoulder and closed his eyes. He did not want Mycroft to leave for such a long time.   
Not now. But he did know how important this man was for the country. And since he did not wish to place any guilt on Mycroft, he went quiet.   
Mycroft on the other hand was more concerned than sad. He knew he had to leave to ensure Johns safety. But Mary and the child had become quite a distraction and he was afraid that that could go on and most probably become even worse.  
They spend a nice evening together, with good wine and a decent meal. However Mycroft had to answer an important phone call and when he came back an hour later he found John asleep on the sofa. He carried his love to the bedroom and put himself to sleep next to him.  
When John woke up the next morning, Mycroft was already busy doing his exercises. The doctor tried to sneak up beside him, but the sight of Mycroft wearing his tight exercise clothes made him gasp and his lover turned around smiling.   
"Oh, don't look at me like that, John.", his soft voice hardly managed to fill the whole room, but it didn't need to, to make it's way to John.  
It was the last time the two man met, before Mycroft left the country. That day the forth crime happened and forced John to leave the apartment even earlier for all the text messages he and Mycroft received from Sherlock. It was eleven days before the case of the frozen chef and thirteen before the death of Mary.  
The doctor had a very bad taste in his mouth when he turned around to leave the room. The sweet kiss he had received, after the usual discussion about ending the play in front of Sherlock, had something strange, almost wicked.   
John Watson could not help, but he had the feeling that something terrible was about to happen._

~

"You weren't lying, when you said, you are his archenemy."  
John took a deep breath and tried to sound rather cold than calm.  
"Actually you were honest with me since the very beginning."  
"You finally figured it out.", Mycroft said sounding proud. He knelt down before John who had seated himself in one of the expensive armchairs in Mycrofts apartment. The elder Holmes was at home for one day, before he had to leave for one more week. They had promised each other to meet at least a couple of hours but Mycroft was already late, since the government occupied him right after he set a foot on the airport ground.  
"You are behind all of this. The murders. The blackmailing. Everything."  
John tried to hold his emotions back and hoped Mycroft could not read his thoughts all over his face.  
"And this Richard Brook… Moriarty, what ever his real name is… did he knew about us."  
"Yes, he did. A wonderful actor, isn't he? Even fooled Sherlock.", Mycroft said with a spark of admiration in his eye.  
"All this to fool your own brother?"  
"Well, I needed to make sure Sherlock was too busy to recognize you and eventually steal you away from me. You saw him. With Magnussen. Can't let that happen again."  
"Steal me-"   
Johns sentence ended abrupt with a dry laugh. In this very moment the first tear emerged from the angle of his eye.   
Mycroft grabbed the hands of his beloved and looked directly into Johns eyes. He could see beyond the mask the doctor had tried to put on.  
"Oh dear, don't tell me it hurts you what I did? This was all for you…", he started in an attempt to soothe John but the sweet smile vanished from his face when he took a second gaze. More tears were leaving Johns eyes since he could see, that Mycroft knew.  
"You cheated on me.", Mycroft said his voice breaking like it never did before. He let go of Johns hands and got back on his feet.  
"You killed my friend… and her child.", John whimpered without even trying to hold his voice.  
Mycroft was about to walk away but he swirled around now looking at the chair from the side.  
"Because I don't want you to spend even more time without me. And you would have taken care of that child. I am already sick of sharing you with my brother."  
Tears of anger were running down his pale cheeks. Somehow the last words froze his feet to the ground.   
John lifted himself out of the chair and approached the tall man with careful steps.  
"You never had to share me with Sherlock.", John cried not able to control himself.  
"Not until now.", Mycroft answered in a bitter tone.  
John bent his head down in guilt tears now dropping to the floor.  
"I am so sorry…", he started and got on his knees before Mycroft.  
"I am a blind idiot. You gave me all the hints, so I know what you are doing for me and I was to slow to realize until now. I am the worst man you could have picked as your husband."  
Johns voice was shaking heavily as he spoke and he knew he sounded very irrational. This man before him was a murderer. And indeed the most dangerous man he had ever met. But as much as he moaned over Marys death and feared the criminal behind all the strange cases, he knew losing Mycroft would actually kill him.  
"I can not ask you to forgive me for the mistake I have made, since I have done a great job on doing the worst I could to you… but…"  
He did not know how to end this sentence right away, but it was not of importance.   
Mycroft had got a grip on himself again. He turned on his heel and left the room without looking back.  
"… I don't want to lose you.", John whispered very low while the back of Mycroft became blur before his eyes.


	12. ~ XI ~

He sat on the floor between tables at the laboratory of St Barts. His eyes were fixed on his phone that was way to silent. Sherlock did not look up when Molly entered the room. Her look was full of concern when she stepped closer.  
"What is wrong Sherlock?"  
"I haven't found him yet. John. They haven't seen him."  
He was waiting for his homeless network to tell him where to find John, but hour by hour had passed without a result.  
"He is probably where Mycroft won't follow.", she said and sat down next to Sherlock still looking at him.  
"Mycroft? Why should Mycroft… foll-…ow… oh no…"  
She smiled a little. Sherlock had mentioned in very short sentences that something had happened between him and John and now he understood why Molly looked that concerned back then.  
"You know it is fascinating how slow you can be on some things, Sherlock Holmes.", she said and was not able to hide a little smile.  
He leaned his forehead against his knees and gave a long sigh.   
"Why do you know?"  
"I introduced Jim to your brother."  
"What?"  
Sherlock looked at her in surprise.  
"Well he needed an actor and Jim said, he was, even though he worked as an IT-guy. I believed him.", her voice got lower and her smile became sad.  
"I believed a lot he said, actually…"  
Sherlock wasn't listening anymore. His brain was working fast and finally he sprang to his feed.  
"Where would Mycroft not look for John?", he asked louder as intended.  
Molly shrugged a bit and looked up at the detective.  
"Do you think he is in danger?"  
"Molly, WHERE?", Sherlock asked again now raising his voice on propose.   
"The graveyard with your tombstone.", she finally muttered and watched him dashing out of the laboratory.

"WHY HAVE YOU NOT TOLD ME?"   
He wanted to shout.   
Scream at John. Scream out all the anger and frustration that he had carried around in his chest and his head for the last days. A hundred thoughts had come up. A hundred times he had vaporized them right away. And even now he was far beyond seeing clear. It was always unawareness that drove him mad. But until now it had never come from John. Not as much as in the last couple of days.  
He wanted to scream at him like a madman.   
Wanted to.  
But has soon as his eyes caught John, all this vanished and there was nothing left but pain.  
John was indeed where Molly said he would be. But the sight was still a surprising one for the detective.   
And not a positive.   
The well trained body of the soldier looked very vulnerable as it sat behind the tombstone, arms around knees and face hidden behind his sleeves.   
The sky was almost clear now and the sun was setting. But speaking by Johns hair it had rained earlier. His hair was still wet and sticked to ears and forehead.  
This picture was a very sad one and it moved even Sherlock Holmes.   
He stepped closer silently and ignored his name on the stone. A sob from John made him stop.  
"You know Sherlock, I now can imagine how you felt at Baskerville. If you can't trust the one thing you always counted on, it is truly a frightening feeling.", John whispered with a dry mouth.  
"What would that be for you?", Sherlock asked, not realizing that John was actually talking to the stone since he had not noticed his arrival.   
The doctor shrugged a little and lifted his head a bit too fast. His neck gave a nasty sound and he moaned in pain.  
"Sherlock! How… how did you find me?", he started, his voice both feeble and in some way excited. The tall man got on his knees beside John and looked at him, his eyes full of concern.   
"Why haven't you told me earlier?"  
John looked away to hide the pain and the guilt in his eyes.  
"I know my brothers ways but.. Just a hint John. Just one word."  
He raised his hand to put it on Johns shoulder but hesitated in midair. After a moment of silence he let it rest on the shoulder and went on.  
"He will never know what happened. I think of something. Just… give me time."  
It was now that John looked back at his friend. Tears were filling his eyes.   
"Oh no, John… you… He knows already."  
The reply was just a short nod before Johns eyes looked at Sherlock as helpless as never before.  
"I don't deserve him. Just like I don't deserve you. I mistreat both of you.", he whispered with shaking lips.   
But Sherlock only shook his head.   
"No, no. We are both lucky we met you. And your love towards us, even though it differs, is a huge gift. Mycroft knows that as good as I do."  
The words seemed not to reach John. His look was still blank apart from some tears that were holding on to his eyes.  
Another moment of silence passed that felt like eternity for Sherlock.   
"You know… I came here a lot after you… you know, the Fall. Talked to you for hours. Mycroft did not understand me at that time. And I needed someone to talk to, before I met Mary. Back then he did not get the sentiments. But still even though he was worried, he never followed because he could not stand the sight of your tombstone."  
He blinked a couple of times and finally returned the look.   
"Sherlock. I do love you in some way. And even though what happened between us was-"  
Sherlock cut him of, raising his hand.   
"That was nothing, John. An experiment. I was curious about sex. Whom else could I have asked to show me?", he said in a soft voice and winked at John.  
"It changes nothing between us."  
The first sign of relieve struck Johns body and he started to shiver at once. He was awake for more than 36 hours now. Five of them he spend in heavy rain.   
Now that one heavy burden was off his head, the exhaustion managed to reach him.   
"Let's go home John.", Sherlock said still with a soft voice and helped his friend onto his feet. The smaller man gave a short nod and followed his lead.   
All of a sudden he was unbelievable tired and he fell asleep as soon as he sat in the cab back to Baker Street. It was quite difficult for Sherlock to get him out of the car and into his bedroom upstairs. But he needed John safe in his bed before he could find some rest for himself.   
Seated in his chair he closed his eyes and went straight to the room labeled -John- in his mind palace. He needed to clean that room off and restore the information he had. It took him a couple of hours but he enjoyed it somehow.   
His next action was just as clear to him. Yet he had to discover that he was missing data.  
-BAKER STREET NOW. URGENT. SH-  
He put his chin to rest upon his fingers, while he waited for the response. HIs eyes were fixed on the empty seat in front of him.  
"Why…?", he muttered in a low voice.   
It was almost an hour later when his phone gave a buzz.  
-NOT POSSIBLE. CURRENTLY OUT ON DUTY. MIDDLE EAST. MH-  
Sherlock gave a short curse and needed to restrain himself from throwing his phone against the next wall.  
"Of course he ran away…", he whispered to himself and rose out off his chair. He wrote a message for John and after he had placed the note at his door, he left the flat. This particular research would require a lot of foot work.


	13. ~ XII ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took that long.  
> But it was a bit difficult for me since I needed to fill the gap between the twelves chapter and the end, that is basically finished.  
> Plus the last days of real-life-work was exhausting.

He sat down at the table and tore his hair. His phone was buzzing before him but he was not in the right condition to pick it up.  
"Aren't you going to answer? Maybe it's John."  
"It isn't."  
"How do you know?"  
"Oh shut up James, will you. I am trying to think.", Mycroft finally said with clear anger in his voice. The other man chuckled a bit and kept on walking through the room, while he watched every detail closely.  
"Just saying you might like to hear his voice.", James added with a smile before he turned to the window. The elder Holmes gave a short sigh and closed his eyes again. The phone had went quiet and the silence made room for a voice in his head.  
Johns voice.  
He swallowed a sob as pictures light up before his eyes.  
The blonde hair, the straight nose, the slim lips.  
He tightened the grip in his own hair and focused on the pain. But even then the voice in his head whispered sweet words of comfort and love.  
"You know there is a reason why the word is hardHEADED.", James started with a soft voice and his back towards Mycroft.  
"It is the heart that forgives. And I believe you already chose to forgive him."  
Something flew through the room and shattered at the wall opposite Mycroft. His hands were shaking a bit and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. Moriarty glanced over his shoulder and at the pieces of glass on the floor. He shook his head and finally turned around to leave the room.  
"Where are you going?"  
"Out."  
"But we have things to discuss. Your next play."  
"If there would be a next play, Mr. Holmes, it would already lay before me.", James winked and left the room with no more choices to call him back.  
For a moment Mycroft was truly surprised by those actions. But then he remembered that anyone not a Holmes was quite good with understanding sentiments and he had to admit, that Moriarty might be right about him.  
"He is not. Don't be silly Mycroft!", he admonished himself.  
"Focus on the plan."  
It was not working.  
As soon as he tried to think of something else again, there was only John in his head. John and the fact that way too much time had passed since he embraced him properly.  
The phone gave another buzz.  
A short one now.  
No call or text message but a notification.  
There had been a new upload on John Watsons personal blog.

Two days.  
It has been two days since Sherlock had put John to rest in his bedroom. The doctor had not left the room so far. When the handle was pushed down from the inside, Sherlock was out on the streets again.  
With red eyes John looked into the hallway and finally onto the message on his door which had two add-ons already.  
-I am out on research. Will bring food. Don't leave the flat on your own. SH-  
-Food in the fridge. Out again.-  
-DON'T EAT THE FOOD! ACCIDENTALLY POISONED IT. Will bring new stuff.-  
A weak smile appeared on Johns face when he glanced on the written letters.  
He felt horrible.  
Not hungry or tired but still exhausted. But at least his mind was blank and not torturing him with thoughts about guilt and loss.  
His knees were shaking when he made his way downstairs to the living room. He hardly managed to reach the door, when he heard a noise from downstairs.  
"Sherlock?", he asked and was shocked by the sound of his own voice.  
"John, oh dear, you are awake."  
It was Mr. Hudson who came upstairs, a whole world of sorrow in her eyes. John wondered how much the landlady actually knew.  
"Do you need something? I will make you a cuppa. …oh, I am so sorry about Mary. And the child."  
John had to restrain himself from telling her to shut up. He took the hug in silence and gave a nod. She accompanied him to his chair without a change in her look.  
"I might have some biscuits, too. You must feel terrible. Such a loss."  
The doctor sank down into the chair his eyes now fixed on the dark leather in front of him. Rustling noises came to his ears while the landlady hurryd trough the kitchen, looking for something, or preparing, John did not care.  
Now that there was someone talking, the thoughts came back. And they hurt as much as they did two days ago.  
"How can something like that happen in our time. I really- huh"  
Sherlock appearing in the door all of a sudden finally cut her off, what caused John to almost let a 'thank god' slip his lips.  
"Thank you, that will do, Mr. Hudson."  
"Are you sure? Is he alright? I-"  
"THANK YOU. I will take over now. Look, I've got food."  
"Oh… ok… take care boys.", she mumbled a little disappointed and left them alone.  
"Thanks, Sherlock.", John said with a low voice, yet without looking up. A couple of minutes of silence filled the room and curiosity took over. When John turned his head the detective came back from the kitchen with a full plate and silverware in his hands.  
"It's from Angelo's. I thought after four days without food, you might be hungry."  
The first reaction was to decline the meal, because John could feel his stomach twist with the thought of food. But the look on Sherlocks face made him reconsider and he took the plate with another low 'thanks'.  
The next minutes they spend in silence again. John was forcing himself to not throw up and Sherlock watched him eating from his own chair.  
He did not push him to talk nor to do anything.  
The detective did his own thing.  
He told John where he went, always leaving space for the doctor to follow and he made sure that there was always eatable food in the flat. Since he did not understand the matter of sentiments and this sort of love, he left it to John when to open up and go on.

"I really don't know if this is a good idea."  
"It's not good, John… it's brilliant."  
"But everybody will see.", was the reply from John who sat in front of his laptop.  
"No. Trust me on that. No one will realize."  
"Well then, how will you know, he does."  
"Oh believe me, Mycroft is able to read a simple skip code."  
John gave a sigh and looked on the text again. It was written by Sherlock but through the eyes of John. It had taken him three full days. Not because it was hard to work the message for Mycroft in there, but because he needed to keep himself from exaggerating.   
"I don't know."  
"Yes, you do. You know things like that are working on my brother.", Sherlock said with a snort.   
John could not fight that argument and finally started to copy the text from the sheet. The deceptive walked up and down behind him, checking his progress every now and then. When John looked up again his eyes were still full of doubts.  
"What?"  
"You say a skip code will work on your brother."  
"You know it will."  
"But the message. You both don't care about sentiments. How do you know he will care this time?"  
"Because he cares about you."  
A weak smile appeared on Johns lips.  
"I hope you are right."  
"I am never wrong. Now upload it."  
And John did.   
Even though he doubted that Mycroft would read this entry about the frozen chef. But there was a glimpse of hope somewhere in him.   
Sherlock clapped his hands and looked around excited.  
"Well then, off we go."  
"What? Where?"  
"A crime scene, John. A beautiful one. Hurry, the cab is waiting. New Scotland Yard needs us."  
John turned around on his chair and looked at his friend with surprise and disbelieve. It was Sherlock Holmes all along but after the last days it was quite a bit bizarre.   
"But-"  
"No but, John. There is nothing more we can do here, so we might as well go out and have fun.", he said already on his way to the stairs, a wide grin on his face.  
"You know I am lost without my blogger, so move already.", he yelled back.  
A real smile found its way onto Johns lips when he finally rose out of his chair. There was no further arguing. And since Mycroft would not be back for another three days he might as well go and distract his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thats almost it. Only one more to go.


	14. ~ XIII ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There comes the last one.

It was that day.  
The first day at work again.  
Back into the clinic.   
Sherlock was very concerned about this decision. He could not explain, but he was still worried about John going back to work. It was too early after Marys death. And there was no sign of Mycroft yet.   
But John refused to listen.   
"I need that. I need a little normal after all this. Just…"  
"It is ridiculous John. You can't hide from what happened."  
"But I can try to forget."  
"That is silly."  
"Well, I am an idiot, remember!"  
Sherlock frowned and looked after him.  
Not even a week had passed since he found his friend on the graveyard. Shivering and exhausted.   
They had been out on the streets again to help out Lestrade. But that was something else. Sherlock could keep a close look on his blogger. His friend. But he couldn't let him wander around on his own already.   
So naturally when John stepped out of the front door of 221b Sherlock ran to the backdoor. He would keep an eye. There was no chance he let anything happen to his friend and now new old flatmate.   
When Sherlock reached the corner and glanced at Baker Street John stood in front of a black car. His face pale as it could get and his mouth open in shock. Nevertheless he entered before Sherlock could even call his name.  
And of course this time it took him nearly fifteen minutes to hail a cab.

_Dear heart of mine,  
there was a time were I was lonely. Almost cast out and unable to trust even my closest family. I felt like a man out of time and I could not imagine that one day I might find a way back into this world.   
Until I met you.   
I met you and not only did you turn my life upside down, you saved my life in a way you might never fully understand. I do not wish to live without you again.   
So what ever problems you might have, what ever fight you take on or what ever crime you do commit, I will always stand by your side. I will not leave until you are going to tell me to do so. It is not anybody's call, not even gods. It is yours and yours alone. If you wish to have me with you, I shall be glad to accompany you a lifetime._

He swallowed hard.   
The whole ride he did not say a word to the woman next to him. He was wondering how much she knew but then again, it did not matter.   
He needed to focus.   
Focus on what to say. But now that he was standing in that big bright hall, his mind was as blank as it could be.   
It was a strange place to meet. The entrance was crowded with people coming and going. Luggage was dragged around corners and people moved slowly in lines. Until now they had usually met somewhere deserted.   
The horrifying thing about this change was, that John could think of one possibility only.  
"He will tell me, it never happened. It is over. So be prepared John, don't freak out.", he mumbled to himself. His eyes watched the busy strangers rushing around, always prepared to spot him.  
And still it took away his breath when he finally could see him in the crowd.   
There was no mistake.   
The umbrella, the suit, the way he moved.   
Johns heart skipped a beat and his chest gave in in pain. He took a sharp breath and tried to be calm, but he could feel his body freaking out already. The shaking hands in his pockets, he tried to hide his nervousness and played cool.  
Only a few steps were left between the two men, when Mycroft stopped.   
"I see, you recovered, Dr Watson."  
"Yes, I did."  
"Back to solving crimes with my brother then, as if nothing happened."  
"Try to move on, yes."  
Mycroft gave a short nod. His eyes were resting on John but the doctor failed to read them. The look seemed cold but it felt so familiar.   
He was about to break in. Just step forward and threw himself into Mycrofts arms. But he knew he had squandered his chance.  
Still there was hope left that made him look at Mycroft, eyes full of expectations.  
"You probably wonder, why I called you here."  
"Kidnapped me again. Yes, I do wonder."  
Mycroft smiled and again Johns heart skipped a beat. This time he failed to hide the pain for a second. But the elder Holmes just went on, as if he had not noticed.  
"I intend to show something to you Dr. Watson."  
John glanced around and looked back at Mycroft in disbelieve.   
"Here."  
"Yes. Of course."  
No one was paying attention to the two chatting man. Even though the hall just got a little more crowded.   
John felt very lonely all of a sudden and he wished Sherlock would stand by his side. He was afraid of what Mycroft would show him. And he felt the last piece of hope in his heart shatter, when the smile on Mycrofts face faded and left the cold untouchable look of a cruel man.   
He could feel tears coming up. There was not much time until his mask would fall. Even worse, he was certain that the man before him could already look right through it.   
Mycroft stepped a little closer.  
"Look, my dear.", he said, his voice as soft as possible and pointed towards the big screens with his umbrella.   
A shiver ran down his spine with the sound of those words, but he followed the look and lifted his own head. All screens in the entrance hall of this very airport were switching to the news simultaneously.   
-Last actions of Jim Moriarty post-mortal-  
The headline surely surprised John. That was not, what he had expected to see. And yet he did not understand. Only a few people were paying attention to the screen and since John did not need to know the details he looked back at Mycroft with questioning eyes.  
"What does that mean?"  
"That there will be no further crimes arranged by Moriarty.", Mycroft answered as if it was the most natural thing.  
"But you were Mo-"  
John looked around shy and finally took another step towards Mycroft.  
"You were behind all this."  
"And now it's over."  
John swallowed and looked to the floor. Those were the very words he was expecting.  
"It?", he managed to ask.  
"The play.", Mycroft whispered in respond.  
All of a sudden a shard of hope in Johns chest stared to glimmer again.  
"You mean…"  
His voice broke and he was not able to say another word. Mycroft raised his hand, his eyes still cold. A wave of his umbrella and all eyes rested on them.   
Only a second later there was a lot of rustling and after every single person in this hall had left said room, there was only the dull sound of the screens and the breath of the two men.  
"John, I thought very long about what to say, when I see you again."  
The doctor was still not able to say a word. Quite handy for Mycroft who found it difficult to say all this without small breaks, but did not wish John to interrupt him.  
"First I was not even sure if I want to see you again."  
The first tear emerged from Johns eyes.  
"I took my time to think things over without a rush. But it was you, with a little help I guess, who opened my eyes and lit the road to my heart again."  
The shaking hands slid out of Johns pockets when Mycroft placed a warm hand on his shoulder.  
"Your wedding vow in a blog. I wasn't expecting that, I have to admit."  
It was now, that the soft tone from his voice took finally over in his eyes as well, when he tried to catch Johns look. But the doctor was still to shocked. He simply was afraid to believe what he heard right there. The second went by and Mycroft stepped back a bit, gathering back his attitude.  
"Quite unexpecting and brave. So I figured I might need to answer to that."  
He leaned on his umbrella and finally caught Johns look. The blue eyes were full of fear and very insecure.  
"For that let me quote a very wise and kind man. A man who I respect a lot for what he has done in the last years is an honor to all men. He said those words to a very dear friend."   
John was not sure what to say to that and he was certain there was no need for him to talk now. But he was sure that Mycrofts cheeks were slowly blushing. But then again he was as nervous as a schoolboy on his first day and could not trust his own eyes.  
"The problems of your past are your burden."  
Now John did not trust his ears and as Mycroft went on speaking he could not help but let out a sob.  
"The problems of your future are my privilege."  
Mycroft hardly managed to open his arms properly when John flung himself against him.  
"My dear John, let me give you the exact same answer to your vow I gave you on our wedding day."   
Another sob from John was muffled by Mycrofts shirt.  
"I love you.", he whispered and closed his arms around the smaller man. John was crying inconsolably now, his hands clinching to the shirt.  
"You will pay for your fault though.", the elder Holmes added with a smile. A nod and a short laugh that went over in another sob was the only reply John could give at that moment.  
"Now stop crying, will you?", he said and took Johns face into his hands.  
"Or I will give in as well."  
And there were actual tears appearing in his eyes as he looked at his love.   
They stood like this for a moment. Neither of them dared to move closer until another tear slowly ran down Johns cheek. With soft lips Mycroft kissed away the sign of pain and finally placed his lips onto Johns. The strong arms of the doctor now closed entirely around Mycroft who gave a short moan of pain. Yet he did not try to loosen Johns grip.  
"Thank you, my love.", John whispered with a dry throat and leaned his head against Mycrofts shoulder. Never would he let go of this man again.  
"Thank you so much."

_I love you._

"Shut up, Mycroft will you!"  
"Oh come on Sherlock it's obvious. Just look at them!"  
"It's a fucking telly show. They are not dressing him like that on purpose."  
Mycroft made a face and John burst out in laughter. It was always entertaining to watch the Holmes brother fight. This time he had to admit it was way more entertaining than usual.   
"Who had thought that a television could occupy the both of you.", he said chuckling and dogged a pillow that flew into his direction.  
"That is your fault, John!", they said simultaneously and gave him an angry look. He chuckled even more.  
"I am still bored.", Sherlock said after a while and flung himself onto the sofa.   
"Now that there are no further crimes arranged by Moriarty, there are only ordinary crimes to solve.", he added.  
Mycroft opened his mouth to say something but John cut him off with a look and he just rose out of his chair, smiling.  
"Well then little brother, time to look for another job. I heard they are looking for beekeepers in south france."  
When he passed John, he let his fingers slid through his hair with another smile and went on to leave the flat. The doctor glanced at him with a happy smile.  
"Not. Funny. Mycroft.", Sherlock snarled and turned around on the sofa.  
No goodbye was exchanged between the brothers but that was nothing new.   
Things were back to normal now.  
As normal as it could get with the Holmes brothers.  
Mycroft had kept his promise to John.   
He had retired his job and was merely giving advices here and there. John still shared the flat with Sherlock but was not just in an official relationship with Mycroft and spend a lot of time with him, but could tell everyone that they were married. That was a bit of a shock for Mr. Hudson who still believes that Sherlock was his first boyfriend.  
James Moriarty was not seen again, but Mycroft let slip the information to John that there was an actor, named Richard, that made fantastic children's plays in a local theatre in the states.  
It happened now and then that Mycroft had a very bad day and John had to suffer under his past mistake. Not to mention the fear that woke him regularly in the night. His husband was a criminal mastermind after all.  
But in the end it was worth it.  
"What are you smiling about?"  
"Nothing, Sherlock. Really."  
"Still can't believe you fall for that criminal."  
"Criminal?"  
"My brother, yes. Married for over a year. Isn't it a crime to keep such a secret before your brother?"  
"No… no I don't think so.", John chuckled. He always wondered how much Sherlock actually knew. But he never dared to asked wether the consulting detective had figured out the truth behind Moriarty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually I am not into happy ends, but I have to admit I got carried away with that one.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading it.  
> I certainly enjoyed writing. 
> 
> Maybe I will add the real wedding (day and night) as a bonus chapter, if I get down to actually writing it.
> 
> So… thanks for following. =)


End file.
